


Twinkyempath and Mindpalace2k15 Crossover

by mresundance



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-01 10:11:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2769209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mresundance/pseuds/mresundance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Hannibal has some new neighbors and Will wants to know them more intimately.</p><p>UPDATE 1/23/15: I am not updating this anymore. Any crossovers will be over on the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2221539/chapters/4872729">Twinkyempath Anthology</a> from now on (it is just easier to remember and maintain). Crossover chapters will be marked with "MP" in the beginning. I am keeping this up just for posterity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On the New Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mind Palace 2k15](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2723144) by [9_of_Clubs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/9_of_Clubs/pseuds/9_of_Clubs), [Quedarius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quedarius/pseuds/Quedarius). 
  * Inspired by [Twinkyempath Anthology](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2221539) by [mresundance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mresundance/pseuds/mresundance). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal has some new neighbors. Will is very keen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Originally posted here.](http://twinkyempath.tumblr.com/post/105132722473/on-the-new-neighbors)

Hannibal seems to have acquired new neighbors in the last month or so, [mindpalace2k15](http://tmblr.co/mPL_3rmsxR-GxVS3anu61wg). 

(“Acquired,” he sniffs. “It’s more accurate to say I was  _imposed_ upon,” as if he is the only person in the entire neighborhood.) _  
_

Suffice to say, the neighbors are an interesting lot. One of them likes to saunter around without his clothes on. (Rather scruffy, even by my standards, with browned skin and long hair and braids … . but there is definitely something about him which piques my interest. Maybe his pert, muscular ass, his broad, sturdy shoulders. Or his cock — an easy mouthful while still soft, much less while hard.)

Another one seems rather childish and innocent — annoyingly, endearingly so — and yet another looks a lot like me, if, according to Abigail: “I let myself go a little more”. She means he is scruffy and a bit plumper. He follows the naked one around a lot, while wearing things that look like very short skirts or dresses and showing a fantastic amount of milky white thigh that leaves little to the imagination. 

And there are a a few who seem, weirdly enough, to be a lot like Hannibal and I. The guy who looks like me — well — he looks a little sadder I have to say, and his Hannibal a little more … pins and needles. I’ve said to my Hannibal: “Like he is on pins and needles more.”

My Hannibal just purses his lips and rolls his eyes at any mention of the neighbors, because he founds them “loud and uncouth” and “carrying on at all hours of day in a dreadful way”. I still insist that we should probably get to know them more  _intimately_.

Hannibal tells me this is because I am thinking not with my formidable mind, once again. I tell him he likes it when I think with my dick, especially when it’s in him. He doesn’t exactly disagree. 

At any rate, I hope I can use my considerable talents and persuade him to make a social visit at some point. He wouldn’t want to be seen as rude, even by a pack of uncouth, loud, fornicating ruffians. (And it’s not like he’s  _dating_ one either.)


	2. Peeping Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is spying on Hannibal's new neighbors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Originally posted here.](http://twinkyempath.tumblr.com/post/105133127938/the-winnowing-wind-mindpalace2k15-hrm-better)

"Will," Hannibal calls to me and I only vaguely respond.

"Will, what are you doing?" Hannibal scowls. "You’re  _spying_ on the neighbors again.”

It’s a statement of fact, and the way he says it sounds like I’ve forced him to lick the over cooked, burnt gristle out of a pot. 

I make a noncommital noises while Hannibal bends down, swooping into my personal space, wrapped in a bathrobe and still damp from his evening shower, his hair combed back, the minty tang of whatever lotion he used thankfully stronger than the smell of his overly expensive (but completely  _dour)_ toothpaste. 

"Mmmm, that  _beast_ again,” he  _tsks._ "Taking his clothes off when half the neighborhood can see," he sniffs.

"What," I shoulder him out of the way just in time to see a brown, tanned flash of belly, but no more, because the scruffy man in the neighboring house stops while his pink t-shirt is halfway up his stomach.

"Oh," and I am aware of how ridiculously dismayed I sound, and how ridiculous I am, goggling the neighbors through windows. Like the pervert I am. 

"Will come to bed," Hannibal says tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"You know we really ought to —"

Hannibal sighs heavily. 

"You don’t want to be  _rude_ —” I murmur, wrapping my arms around him, just the way he likes: firm but slack enough to allow him space to maneuver. 

"It’s always polite to call on new neighbors," I hum, brushing his hair back from his neck and kissing him there. "You said so yourself," more kisses into his skin, rubbing circles into his stomach, reaching beneath his bathrobe. 

I can  _feel_ his eyeroll. 

"It seems a might cruel to use my own words against me in such a fashion, Will," he manages as I pull his bathrobe back, over one shoulder. 

"Mmmm, serves you right," I say, dragging my teeth over his shoulder and reaching between his thighs. 

It’s not long — my hand warm and firm around him, rolling his thick red head with my thumb as he comes — and he needs to take another shower. He only minds a little now, because I join him, shampooing his hair and touching him all over, listening to the low vibrations of pleasure still reverberating through his body. 

"Perhaps," he says as we climb into bed, "a social visit will not go  … amiss."

"That’s the spirit," I say, nuzzling him. 

He sighs as if to say  _why do I let you manipulate me so._

"You love me," I mumble into his chest. 

He purses his lips and says nothing, but we both know the truth. 


	3. Snowball Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snowball fight ensues at the neighbor's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Originally posted here.](http://twinkyempath.tumblr.com/post/105244596788/knights-vs-murder-husbands-after-the-snowball)

“ _Animals,”_ Hannibal hisses. Sometimes I forget if I have a giant cat for a partner or not, because the way he pulls his lips back gives the impression that he should be flattening a pair of ears against his feline skull. 

Not one to be tempted by pleasures beneath him (such as eyeballing the neighbors through the kitchen window while they snowball fight), Hannibal scowls and continues working on dinner while Abigail and I, his extremely faithful and trustworthy helpers, continue shirking our duties so we can goggle the neighbors through the window.

"The scruffy one and chubby Will are like  _nearly humping each other in the driveway oh my god,_ " Abigail says, distracted from potato peeling enough to nearly slice herself open. 

I grunt because there’s not much I can add to the description, and I’m focusing on how the two men’s lips seem to be meeting. Is that —  _tongue_?

A lull in the action as a car pulls in to block our view and the doppelgängers — as Hannibal and I call them, because they look so like us — hop out. Swaying almost languidly in step.

Abigail and I sadly return to our duties (well, maybe not so sadly, because she has cut herself, now, so I take her finger into my mouth. The blood is warm and acrid, like pennies left in the dryer, and she blushes just a little). But then her eyes graze over me and she says, “Holy shit.”

The neighbor’s front yard is a flurry of snowballs now, and I find myself laughing.

Hannibal pauses long enough from his foul bristling to ask: “What are they doing now?”

"Snowball fight," Abigail and I answer. 

Hannibal says nothing about that.

"Maybe we could …?" Abigail says. 

But soon enough the snowball fight is over, an even draw between the scruffy ones and our doppelgängers, and Hannibal is asking about the potatoes and the leeks, and well. Best not displease the chef, especially when he’s currently wielding that sullen glare.

"You are not too proper for snowball fights, are you?" I teased, kissing him softly on the lips until I feel him relax a bit. 

"It seems a little …juvenile," he shrugs. 

"Not if I get you all wet and soaked from the snow, and then I peel your clothes off very slowly once we get inside," I whisper.

He thrums with pleasure at the idea, even if just for a moment. 


	4. Holidays Suck (Abigail POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail's point of view on things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Originally posted here.](http://twinkyempath.tumblr.com/post/105714482328/mindpalace2k15-it-appears-first-in-the)

[OOC: This is vaguely related to [this post](http://twinkyempath.tumblr.com/post/105708371743/the-light-of-a-million-years).]

 

Holidays deeply suck. Can't stop thinking about that, and it sucks even more because it's keeping me from falling comfortably asleep with my face in a magazine at Hannibal's kitchen table. 

"Abigail," he says. "Are you all right?"

He's drying one of those fancy pots of his, probably worth more than a couple hundred bucks. Worth more than most of my grocery budget for a month. 

"I'm fine," I lie and he knows it. He always  _knows._ He's creepy like my dad that way. How does Will even stand it?

"I just had finals a then work and I'm still catching up," I hear my voice and I sound fragile and far away, even to myself. 

"Maybe this business of school, work, and living on your own is too much for you," he says and he is putting on the Nice Face when he says it. Ugh. Here we go with the Paternal Advice Interlude. 

"Maybe you should just live with myself or Will. Work less. Focus on your studies."

"No. I'm fine," I say. "Lots of people have it worse than me where I got to school. I'll get used to it."

He purses his lips in that way that says he disagrees and doesn't like my answer one little bit. My dad used to smile at me when he didn't like what I had to say. Well, he's not my fucking dad and no one gets to tell me what to do anymore. 

But that's why the holidays suck so deeply. I don't have anyone else. Just Hannibal and Will. And the last thing I want to do is live with  _either_ of them. Hannibal will be sneaking body parts into the house and pretending  _nothing is going on_ and Will and I would be fucking like rabbits and  _pretending nothing is awkward_ between the fuckings. I would rather work myself into exhaustion and have my shitty shoebox of a single room apartment where I can have peace and quiet and  _neither of them in my headspace or my physical space_ thanks. 

Impasse. Hannibal: 0, Abigail: ?. I never know with Hannibal. So we look out the window because there's nothing left to say. 

Will romping around Hannibal's yard like a giant scruffy puppy. 

I've never seen a guy so excited about hanging Christmas lights. My dad did it because he  _insisted_ the neighbors would say something if we didn't, but the Christmas lights always came out cold to me. Light they had no light or merry cheer to them. They were just there for show. 

But Will looks like he is having the time of his life, though tangled up in Hannibal's Christmas lights right now. Still, it's hard. It's hard not to like him because he seems to have the time of his life with a lot of things: cooking with Hannibal, listening to Hannibal's blah blah blah fancy bullshit babble. Spending time with his dogs.

When he sees me. 

"Will is being gallant and hanging the lights for me this year. Don't tell him I might have to redo them," Hannibal says, with what that weird humor of his. He loves Will. But there is something really too imprecise about Will's light hanging -- now he's thrashing around in the snow a little, still tangled -- it just won't please Hannibal. 

But he's not really hanging the lights to be totally gallant, because he keeps peering into the neighbor's windows. 

"So gallant," I say. 

Hannibal smiles that smile he only has for Will and for some ridiculous reason I want to gouge his eyes out. Jealous sometimes, I guess. It comes and goes. 

"What do you think about visiting the neighbors?" I ask.

"Oh, I am warming to the idea," he says. "Will has been very persuasive."

I can imagine exactly his type of persuasion -- he's a walking boner half the time -- and it makes me so stupidly fond of him I want to run out and kiss him on the mouth. But that passes too. Comes and goes. 

"I wouldn't mind visiting the neighbors either." And I might as well have cut my leg off and shoved it down my throat. The minute the words are out I know it. Even before Hannibal goes perfectly still. 

"What would your interest in the neighbors be, dear Abigail?" he asks in that low voice of his. Barely above a whisper. 

I press my lips together and arch my eyebrow at him but say nothing. He's heard the conversations I've had with Will at the window. About a certain neighbor's shocking, muscular thighs, and how it would feel to be between them. Even if he wasn't there, Hannibal always knows. Or figures it out. Somehow. 

"You should be very careful Abigail."

"About what?" I snap. It was his fucking idea in the first place.  _Hey Will and Abigail, you seem to have a lot of unresolved sexual tension, why don't you fuck and see how that pans out for you?_

"Will has grown quiet attached to you," he says. "You should . . . be mindful of his affections for you. It might not be . . . wise . . . for you to have dalliances with other men."

He says it all in the same soft tone. My dad used the same tone when he told me he loved me at night. 

I shrug to tell him:  _I get it okay._

I should be terrified. My heart should be in my throat and all that. All I can manage is feeling irritated though. Emotions have been really funny since my parents died. All muted and washed out. Like the world is colorless and lightless and just -- blah. 

Later, Will's finished with the lights, dusting snow out of his bouncing curls, and babbling excitedly about the neighbors and mistletoe and everyone kissing and something about a regular, good old fashioned orgy. He asks me what's wrong when I don't say anything.

"I'm fine," I say. "Tired."


End file.
